Written by Doc
I see them often in the morning at the bar where I drink coffee and delay in the chat between gogliardico and engaged with friends before going to work. Just a quick nod of greeting exchanged between us when we sit at the tables, to testify at a frequency that smells of morning coffee and croissants. She is blond and Nordic surely. They say his high cheekbones, the tall, blue eyes of a lens. The age has not undermined his beauty. He is very impressive and Latin. Parkinson's disease imperceptibly shakes his hands, or hinders him when he walks in small steps, Festina. I do not know anything about them. Great that you are known on the sunny beaches and blue of Sicily or Greece, and there have combined their destiny in a strong and passionate.
The sun begins to filter, after this long winter, last winter. Cycling in passing by Hugo, I see them still.
She is aiming to enjoy the sun. Him beside the tattered tenderness caressing her face.
A good envy blinds my eyes and recreates a Mediterranean fantasy of years away.
doc
image cc by Alaskan Dude
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